


Animal Redeemed

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: Love, or something like it. [3]
Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: Dark Humor, Depression, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: As both Bernie and Elton seek to better themselves for each other, their pasts continue to try and ruin them...





	1. Chapter 1

Elton stared blankly at the black composition book tossed in front of him for probably much longer than deemed sensible. He lifted his gaze at the no nonsense aide that had taken an automatic dislike to him from his very first day in treatment, confusion evident in his face. “Say what now?”

The woman sighed. Elton noticed her hands were clenched in fists at her sides, and couldn’t help the smirk that graced his face. It entertained him just how much he irritated her just by existing, nevermind the lengths he went to aggravate her farther. “Since you refuse to speak about your feelings or experiences to anyone... Anyone at all, your therapist seems to think it would be beneficial for you to have a journal,” she explained, nodding to the notebook once again.

Elton rested his head in his hand, elbow set upon the plastic card table, tapping his chin with his finger. He nodded at the empty notebook himself. “This is a journal? Looks like a regular ol’ composition book to me, really. Mighty plain as it is…” He smiled when he noticed her face redden in anger. Oh, how he loved this game! “And why would I write it down what I won’t speak of for just anyone to be able to read? Seems rather silly… Doesn’t it,” he looked at her name badge. “Annette?”

Annette pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“I’m Elton John, darling… Kind of in my job description,” he murmured, opening the notepad. He sighed. “Do you have a biro or something, love? I can’t really do anything with this ‘journal’ without one, can I?”

He laughed heartily when she threw a pencil at his head before stomping off. “It’s certainly the little things that bring me joy,” he said cheerfully, raising his cup of tea to his table mate, who only glared at him from above his book. Elton set his cup back on the table. “Blimey… can’t you lot ever have a bit of fun?,” he huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Bernie would have found it funny…”

****************

Bernie sat in his arm chair glaring at Maxine who sat on  _ their _ sofa, like it was just no big deal she waltzed into  _ their _ house like she belonged there. Like she still belonged in his life, after so many years apart and all the  _ heartache _ she brought him. He folded his arms across his chest sullenly, glad he at least put on ‘real clothes’ that morning. Though, when he dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and tight t-shirt he didn’t expect to have such... company.

Ray was really getting on his nerves again with his need for cleanliness and set meal times and the like. During Ray’s week away Bernie remembered just how wonderful it was lay about in his bed all day in just his pants, eating crisps and drinking pop and staring at his ceiling instead of sleeping and only showering when he couldn’t deal with his own smell anymore. The normal life of a work-at-home bachelor, he supposed...

He understood Elton’s annoyance with him fully. He would have to apologize next time he saw him...

“What are you doing here, Maxine?,” he finally asked, the uncomfortable silence more than he could stand.  _ Why are you still deadset on ruining my life?, _ was what he really wanted to say, but even he knew such tact was needed at times.

“I heard about Elton, babe, and wanted to come check on you,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. Bernie narrowed his eyes at her. “What? Isn’t that what friends do? Check in with each other?”

Bernie raised a single eyebrow. “We aren’t friends, Maxine. I haven’t heard from you since I told you I wouldn’t stop writing stop writing for Elton, and you decked me, then found the first willing prick to fuck you to make me ‘jealous’.”

Maxine giggled, a tad nervously. She ran her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t deck you, Bernie. It was nothing more than a love tap. Surely you must know that.”

“A love tap doesn’t leave a bruise for days, Maxine…”

“I was drunk, Bernie. You have to understand that. It’s not like you aren’t known to get a bit violent when you drink too much yourself, you know.” Bernie just stared. She shook her head. “No, you never were the violent type, were you? Even now I get you confused with your awkward little friend sometimes… Is he gone for good?”

Bernie sighed. “Just leave, Maxine. I’d thank you for coming, but I wouldn’t mean it. I’m perfectly fine, as you can tell. But do let the door hit you on your way out, please? I’m too tired to return the favor today.”

Maxine walked around the coffee table, a slight smile on her face. She sat on his lap, placing both her hands on his cheeks, and drew Bernie’s lips towards her. She seemed to not notice, or at least care, how Bernie did not return the kiss, no matter how hard she tried to deepen it. She forced a smile as she pulled away. “Come now, Bernie. I love you. I know you love me. Let’s try this again, now that the bitch can’t mess with us any longer.”

“That ‘bitch’ is my boyfriend, Maxine, and I won’t have you speaking ill against him anymore,” Bernie said, gently pushing her off his lap. He got to his feet, feeling his body begin to tremble. “You really need to leave now before you make me angry.”

“You’re really dating that fool, Bernie?,” Maxine asked, backing away from him quickly. She scooped her purse off the sofa. “I always knew there was something wrong with you, that you cared just a tad too much about him, took a little bit too much interest in his life for ‘just a friend’, but I never expected…” She stomped her foot. “Bernie, how could you do this to me?”

Bernie threw his hands in the air. “How could I do what to you? Live my life on my own terms? Be happier than I ever expected to be? Maxine, you… No. Just leave. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Bernie watched her rush out of the house, wiping her mouth with her the sleeve of her blouse the whole way. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts as he trudged towards the door to close and lock it behind her. He groaned when he noticed John fucking Reid standing awkwardly on the stairs.

“For Christ’s sake. Is this the fucking day for unwanted visitors or what?,” he grumbled, taking his pack of smokes out of his pocket. He lit it quickly before his anxiety took hold of him, his eyes never leaving Reid’s.  _ Ray needs to hurry up and back from the shops before I end up in prison for murder... _


	2. Chapter 2

Bernie took a long pull of his cigarette before speaking. “What are you doing here, Reid?,” Bernie asked tiredly, leaning against the door frame. He really was not up to so much excitement as of yet... “You aren’t welcome here nor anywhere near me or Reggie ever again.”

“Can you be civil for just a mom’, Taupin? I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important,” John snapped, scratching at his arm. Bernie felt elated it was still resting uncomfortably in a sling. “Can I come in and we can talk like adults for a change?”

“No, you may not,” Bernie replied. “I already said you weren’t welcome here. Say your piece and get the hell off my property.”

“Still the same redneck cowboy… No manners at all,” Reid muttered, just loud enough for Bernie to hear. He took a final drag of his cigarette before tossing it in the dirt. “I just want to know if you know where Elton is. He has broken 4 of his employment contracts since he disappeared.”

“I do know where Reggie is, and no I will not tell you where you can find him. He won’t be performing for a while yet, so I suggest you cancel his remaining promotions. Wouldn’t want you to lose any more money than necessary…,” Bernie replied.

“I’m his manager. I deserve to know where his is!”

Bernie shook his head. “No, Reid, you deserve nothing of the sort. You caused this, you know? You caused this breakdown into madness. I hate to say it, but I really, _ really _ wish he broke more than just your arm after what you did.” 

Bernie watched John’s already pale skin whiten even further and the sweat pooling on his forehead in fascination. “He told you?,” John whispered, backing away ever so slightly and almost falling off the stairs. “He told you about what happened that night? He said... Look, it wasn’t meant to go that far, Taupin. You have to believe me.”

“How far was it supposed to go, Reid?,” Bernie asked, stepping onto the stairs himself. _ Please let him be stupid enough to say what happened… Please let him think Reggie told me some of the details... I need to know more to help Reggie through it..., _ he thought. He folded his arms across his chest, trying to look like he knew more than he did. “The thing is, it never is supposed to ‘ go that far’, is it? And it always does with you and him.”

“He needed to be punished, Taupin!,” Reid exclaimed, pulling at his hair with his good hand. “He knew he wasn’t supposed to keep in contact with you and still expect me to stick around through everything! He couldn’t really expect me to be alright with him loving you and fucking me, could he? When I did nothing but love him like he deserved. But he didn’t understand, did he? He never understood what it was like to be me. To be embarrassed to even be seen with him at times... So yes, I drugged him and made him the life of the fucking party, just like he always wants to be. It’s not my fault it got a little out of control...”

“You drugged him and allowed him to be raped and beaten _ again _ by your fucking friends as a punishment, Reid? Do you not realize how fucked up that is to do to a man you keep professing to love?” Bernie lowered his arms and looked down at his shaking hands. He hadn’t felt as much emotion as he had this hour in so long he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“You don’t understand what he needs, Taupin. You never will under…”

“Leave before I kill you myself, Reid,” Bernie interrupted, his voice almost a growl, before stepping back into his house. “I don’t fancy leaving Reggie alone for prison because of you. And don’t worry about being his manager any longer. I will ensure you are terminated at the next opportunity.”

Bernie slammed the door. He looked down at his hands, still trembling. The rage he felt was scaring him. He needed it to stop. He punched through the wall, needing some way to channel his anger. He fell to the floor, still cradling his hand to his chest, his knuckles bleeding profusely, and grief wracking his entire body. _ Oh Reggie, how can you still even still be _ ** _alive_ ** _ with all the shit that wanker has done to you? How could I have let this happen to you? Oh, my sweet, sweet Reggie, I can’t wait to hold you again and tell you just how brilliant you are to have survived..._

*****************

Ray stared at the gaping hole in the wall that was certainly not there when he left for the shops. It was not near the telephone, so Bernie could not have done it while on a call that angered him. He placed the shopping bags on the kitchen table and scratched his head. He stared at the hole once more. _ No sense in standing around when I can just go up and find out what happened, I suppose... _

He walked to Bernie’s bedroom and knocked on the door. “Umm… Bernie?,” he called through the door. “Why is there a hole in the wall of your kitchen, mate?”

“I had some unwanted… guests while you were away,” he said, his muffled voice sounded more exhausted than normal. “I’ll fix it tomorrow… Maybe...”

Ray opened the door. His heart ached seeing Bernie sprawled under his duvet, a pillow held over his head. He had finally gotten Bernie to leave his room for more than just a trip to the loo and a short jaunt into the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest. He stared at the carpet, biting his lower lip. “Who came over, Bernie?,” he asked, keeping his voice as gentle as possible.

“Fucking Maxine and John fucking Reid…,” Bernie moaned.

“I didn’t realize they knew each other.”

“Not together, you wanker,” Bernie groused, taking the pillow off his head. “Within minutes, though. T’was annoying. You should be glad you aren’t picking me up from the police station... Come and sit, mate. Standing in the doorway and looking at me like that makes me feel like I’m being scolded.”

“What did they want?,” Ray asked, collapsing into the overstuffed armchair beside Bernie’s bed.

“Maxine wanted to get back together with Reg being away and Reid demanded to know where Reg was. Maxine fucking kissed me like I could forget the shit she did to me, too, the bitch. She is disgusted I am in a relationship with Reg, wiping her mouth with her sleeve like I gave her some sort of disease as she ran out the door, and Reid was an idiot and told me a bit more than I think I was ready to hear about the night that he ruined Reg. I punched the wall when he left. My emotions got the better of me,” Bernie explained. He lifted up his hand. “I dressed it myself so no need to fret over my hand, Ray. I see you are about to.”

Ray sighed. He leaned over and squeezed Bernie’s shoulder comfortingly. “The drama doesn’t end with either of you, does it now?,” he asked. “I told you you should have gone with me. It was quite boring at the shops.”

“Yeah, yeah, you did. I should have listened.” Bernie put the pillow back over his head, feeling tears spring in his eyes. He sniffled. “It was freeing telling Maxine I was with Reg, though, no matter what her stupid reaction was. I think Reg will be proud of me, yeah?”

“Yeah, mate. He’ll be proud of you,” Ray murmured, patting his arm. He stood. “I sure am. Get some rest, alright? I’ll be fixing some cottage pie for dinner. We haven’t had a real british meal in weeks and I’ve been craving a slice of home.”

Ray pretended he didn’t notice Bernie’s poorly concealed sobs as he closed the door behind him. _ Just can’t catch a break, that one… _

*****************

Elton sat at the small desk in his small room in the facility, the empty notebook in front of him. He tapped his chin with the pencil as he thought about something to fill the pages with, and came up empty. He always did when faced with writing anything down. He looked around his room at the plain white walls, his unmade bed, and even the tile floor for inspiration, and still came up empty.

He sighed, hating everything his life had become all the more.

_ Dear Notebook _ , Elton wrote. _ Because that’s what you are, no matter what my silly doctor says. I don’t know what I am even supposed to write in here. I am not a fucking writer. I have never even been a writer, even when I was in school. It’s Bernie who is the writer, and a brilliant one at that... I suppose I’ll at least try, though. I had promised both myself and Bernie I do my best to heal here, and if this is something that might help, I’ll at least try. _

_ I hate it here. I hate it more than I hate myself, which says everything. Some of the people, both fellow inmates and the workers, are so starstruck I just want to vomit when they see me, others hate me for just existing. It went around soon after my second admittance how much money I waved to get readmitted, and it shows in their treatment of me. It makes for a very uncomfortable group anything session. _

_Shit... I'm not supposed to call them inmates anymore... My 'fellow patients', i mean of course_

_My doctor and the aides who don’t hate me want me to speak up more. I want to speak up more. Whenever I open my mouth to speak, I can almost feel John’s penetrating stare on the back of my head, his large hands around my neck, suffocating me, bruising me... his hot breath in my ear cautioning me of speaking of my past, speaking of him… By the time I have myself under control a new topic has been breached and I would feel silly going back to the old topic, just because I finally had myself together. That would not help my popularity here, of course. So I just stay silent and hope my anxiety does not take to much control of me so I can listen to the others. _

_ I hope to be allotted some phone time this weekend. I have finally finished detoxing after two and a half fucking weeks of hell and as long as I am a ‘good boy’ Dr Bostwick said I can call Bernie again and tell him what’s been going on. Visitors are not allowed as of yet, as they still seem to think I am going to run away again. I don’t really blame them, of course. I really, really hate it here… _

Elton slammed the notebook closed. He did his best to push down the wracking sobs that threatened to overtake him. He did not want anyone rushing in and injecting him with any drugs to calm him. He felt like a chunk of his heart was missing having been away from Bernie for so long. He crawled into the bed, covering his head with the duvet, and just allowed himself to quietly cry. 

_ I hope Bernie misses me just as much, and will take me back when I’m finally freed... _


	3. Chapter 3

Bernie walked out of the old church, his head held high. He felt a sense of determination he had lacked for so long. He clutched the silver chip that he received at his first AA meeting in his trouser pocket like it was his one and only salvation during this shit year he had had.

_ Maybe it is _ , he contemplated, hopping into the passenger side of his truck. He looked at Ray, who sat beaming at him from the driver’s side, and accepted the cigarette he was handed with a grin of his own. “It’s still bloody weird having you drive my truck, mate,” he said, lighting the cigarette. “You can trust me not to drive over the side of the bloody Santa Monica Pier, you know…”

Ray chuckled. “Yes, well, I may trust you not to drive into the water right now, but I can’t really say I trust you to actually drive to the AA meetings or even your therapy sessions, and not the stupid pub where I found you the last five nights instead dancing on the fucking table, mate... I love you, brother. Just want you to be well.”

Bernie chuckled, remembering that night rather fondly. “I only danced on the table that one night, and it was to Crocodile Rock. It had to happen,” he said. “But I know, Ray. I appreciate you. It probably doesn’t seem like it. But I do.” He took a long drag of his smoke as he looked up at the starry night sky. “Without you I’d probably have died months ago, mate. It’s been the worst year of my life.”

Ray shuddered. The thought of burying Bernie had passed through his mind more times than he cared to admit this past year. That was why he quit his job and moved to the states. He couldn’t believe how much he had missed with just a ‘phone call’ friendship since their schedules just never lined up for physical visits. He couldn’t believe how much Bernie had kept from him. Ray had sat in his office the day after he received the call from Bernie asking him to come and visit and maybe ‘pick me up from rehab while you’re here and shit’, contemplating his future. After getting yelled at by Dick for something that ONCE AGAIN, wasn’t his fault, he decided to make the move.

Bernie was more fragile than he allowed himself or others to believe, Ray knew. Bernie stated many times that Ray’s friendship kept him afloat during the insanity of tour life, the foolishness that was Elton John, and the silence when it was all over. The days following the back to back visits from Maxine and John had taken a toll on Bernie. Ray watched him retreat further and further into himself, until he imploded. Ray had wanted Bernie to seek inpatient help again. Bernie told him he couldn’t be unavailable if Reg sought after him. AA and therapy was their compromise after his three weeks of constant inebriation.

It only took 6 days for him to actually make it to a meeting, but beggars can't be choosers as the age old saying said.

“I know you appreciate me, Bernie, and I’m certainly glad you are still around. My life would be pretty boring without your and Elton’s absurd shenanigans.” Ray smirked. “Though I’d probably have less gray hair…”

Bernie chuckled. “Poor pretty boy, beginning to look your age. I feel so sorry for you… I’ll have to start teaching you some history or the like since your looks have failed you this time around. You’re going to have to pretend you have a modicum of intelligence now to keep up with the ladies!”

Ray smacked Bernie’s arm, laughing all the while. “You are incorrigible, Bernie Taupin!,” he exclaimed. Bernie laughed wholeheartedly. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, though, I suppose.”

“Good, because I think I might end up finding me again at some point, and I like him and don’t plan to change.” He threw his butt out the window, his smile fading. “I hope Reg is doing better, though.”

Ray squeezed Bernie’s shoulder. “Good, mate. That’s good. And he’s fine. He told you that himself just the other day, remember? Or maybe you were too drunk to understand. Kick that despair out the window anyway, mate. It’s not good for ya.”

The rest of the ride home was spent in silence, both lost in their own thoughts about the future.

  
  


***************

_ Dear Notebook, _ Elton wrote,  _ some of the flowers in the garden are wilting away in the summer heat. I sometimes feel as though I am one of those flowers. I remember when I was young I thought myself invincible. In my twenties and thirties I thought as much too. How many cocaine seizures did I live through, just to continue lines when I woke up? I survived a bloody heart attack. I survived 2 suicide attempts. I survived concussions and broken bones. I survived so many sexual encounters I lost track of, both consensual and non, without contracting any viruses that could end my life. So many of my ‘friends’ in the industry are not as lucky. Poor Freddy... _

_ Because that’s what I am… lucky. Whether I feel I am or not. _

_ I called Bernie and checked in. He didn’t seem well, but continued to change the subject when I asked after him. His voice sounded slurred, but he’s on the narrow now, so I must have been mistaken. There is only so much you can gather through phone calls, of course. I wish I was there to help him, but he was right in stating I need to help myself first. I hope he follows his own advice… He’s shit at following his own advice. _

_ Dr Bostwick says it’s good I am writing daily. Our sessions have gotten easier. I give him this stupid notebook, he reads it, then we discuss it. I no longer feel like I am being strangled by my emotions ( _ John) _ during our sessions. It is getting easier to write, I suppose. I feel _

Elton sat back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “I feel good after writing,” he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I feel good,” he repeated a little louder.

_ Perhaps not as wilted as I came to believe. With enough water maybe I can sprout anew. I could change my name, and hide away from the ‘success’ that brought me to this place, and live my life with Bernie on our own terms…  _

“Yeah, that won’t happen,” Elton said, tossing his pencil on the notebook. “John would never allow me that freedom.” He picked the pencil back up in his hand.

_ First on my to-do list when I leave this blasted place: find a way to get out of my contract without all my secrets getting out to the public… John knows them all, and if I know him, he will use anything to continue collecting on my name… Ray might be some use for once and be able to help with that… _

“Why am I still so jealous of Ray? It’s not like he and Bernie are screwing around behind my back,” Elton said, banging his temple with his fist. “Need to get rid of this stupid jealousy, Elton. It’s not good for anyone.”


	4. Chapter 4

Elton looked himself over critically in the bathroom mirror. The dark circles that surrounded his eyes for so many years had almost faded. His face was a bit too plump for his taste, but his skin was no longer sickly grey. The collar of his green button down hid the scars from his last panic attack well. He had to have Bernie send him a few new outfits after his first sober panic attack when his trousers just  _ would not _ button no matter which way he shimmied. The beige trousers fit well, and though a bit too plain for his tastes even he could admit the whole outfit looked better on him than his old clothes had now that he wasn’t as skeletal.

Bernie was coming to see him that afternoon, and taking him home by the end of next week after he finally ‘graduated’. His emotions were pinging worse than normal. He was excited of course. He missed Bernie. The ache of their separation had left more of an impact than he expected. It had been twelve weeks since he last saw him, during the last ill-fated visit. Even during the tours that Bernie ended up not accompanying him on for one reason or another, he had never gone that long without seeing him at least in passing.

Elton still could not believe he sought treatment almost four months ago and would just now be leaving, thanks to his two weeks hotel hopping trying to figure out what to do…

He also was terrified. He hadn’t had much contact with the ‘outside world’ (other than the few phone calls he was allowed with Bernie) in the eight weeks he had been in the center, especially after a horrible visit he had with John three weeks after returning to the facility. He still had so much anger that his mum told John where to find him. He still had so much anger that he was able to jump over the red tape Bernie had to go through to see him because it was a ‘business meeting, love, between manager and client’. Seeing John’s arm healed when he met him in the garden had made Elton wince. He knew what that arm and hand could do first hand, especially when he felt Elton was a self indulgent prick… Which was often. He was just thankful it was a supervised visit that ended rather abruptly thanks to John’s own anger management issues. 

Elton felt like his limbs were filled with lead when John had begun berating him for disappearing, ruining his relationship with their faithful business partners, and how he would become a has-been soon enough if he didn’t get his shit together. He found himself nodding with tears in his eyes, wanting nothing but to please the man once again. He wanted nothing but to be forgiven for being so selfish as to push him down the stairs in his anger and then kicking him out of the house and then running away to better himself because just why would he need to do that... He was just the money machine after all... 

John had a way about him that made Elton want to surrender all and be forgiven every time he saw him, no matter that John had hurt him over and over… But it wasn’t enough for John, the words. It never was, though, was it? He soon followed it up with action. Elton waited for the punch to land because he deserved it, didn’t he? For hurting John like he had? Oh, but he was so confused! 

Elton had sobbed in relief when John was led off premises in handcuffs after striking the aide who jumped in front of Elton when John had tried to punch him. It had taken Elton a week before he even spoke at all to anyone after that meeting. Bernie had sent the aide flowers and chocolate and a long letter expressing his gratitude for keeping ‘his Reggie’ safe when Elton finally felt up to a phone call. Elton still giggled when he remembered hearing of the sweet letter.  _ His Reggie… I’m still his Reggie, after everything I’ve done. He still wants me. _

  
  


*********************

Bernie had never spent much time looking in the mirror, especially over the last few months, but he just couldn’t stop fussing over his appearance. He had even gone to the department store earlier that morning and bought a new outfit because after going through everything in his suitcase he couldn’t find anything that seemed presentable enough. He had even spent an hour on his hair, brushing and fluffing and sighing, which was not like him at all, and finally just tied it back in a simple elastic.

He felt like he was going on a first date or something, and it was driving him crazy!

“For fucks sake, Bernie, it’s just Reggie,” he said. He found himself muttering that same phrase over and over to himself throughout the morning. He clasped his red chip that signified one full month of sobriety that sat in the pocket of his leather jacket, feeling a bit calmer as he did so. He knew it was ridiculous to find such strength in a cheap ‘medallion’, but there were times in which it felt like it was all he had.

“You really are being a bit absurd,” Ray offered from the window, laughter evident in his voice. He ignored Bernie’s glare as he flipped through the new copy of Rolling Stone he bought that morning. “Though I am glad you made me come with you. This has all been quite entertaining.”

Bernie threw the television remote at his head. “Why do I keep you around, mate, when all you do is take the piss?”

Ray shrugged. “I ask myself that same question every day, Bernie. But you haven’t kicked me out yet, so I guess you need me around or something.” He set his magazine down on ‘his’ bedside table. “I’m going to go get some grub. I’ve heard no pizza is better than Chicago pizza, and I’d like to experience it myself. Enjoy your visit and please stop stressing so hard. It will be fine.” Ray walked towards the door, but stopped before fully exiting. “And if you stop by a pub on your way back here if things go bad so help me I will be on the next flight to London, and you both can go to hell, Bernie Taupin. I swear it,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

Bernie fell back on his bed with a groan. Had he really been that transparent? He had been thinking all morning about all the ways the visit was going to go wrong and he couldn’t help but long for a nice tumbler to ease his nerves, or to ease the heartache that will occur when the visit goes south.

_ Damn you, Ray _ , he thought, pulling himself to his feet.  _ I really wish I had your confidence... _

  
  


***************

Bernie found himself shuffled into what looked like a community room when he finally received his visitor’s pass and a sweet old lady handing him a cup of coffee. It seemed like every patient in the facility was in the room that afternoon. Some were watching the tele, others quietly reading or painting, some chatting over tea… Every patient seemed to be in there but Elton… He felt their curious eyes on him and shifted awkwardly on the worn loveseat, his own cup of coffee shaking in his hands.

“Bernie!”

Bernie got to his feet, a broad smile on his face, as Elton rushed towards him. He set his coffee on the plastic table in front of the loveseat. Bernie felt awkward when he saw almost all of the patients gazing their way, but held Elton close anyway, inhaling the unique scent he missed so much. “Oh my love, I am so glad to finally see you!,” he exclaimed, keeping his hands on his shoulders when Elton stepped back slightly. “You look so good, Reg!”

Elton scoffed, scuffing the toe of his slippers on the tile. “Don’t lie, Bernie… I feel like I’ve gained at least 9 stone… All there is to do is eat and sleep here... And these clothes are just so plain! I look horrid!”

“Hardly, my love,” Bernie said, leading him to the loveseat he had just vacated. They settled down, Elton leaning as close to Bernie as he was able, just like when they were at home. Bernie gazed around the room, satisfied that most if not all had gone back to own worlds. “And I apologize for the clothes I sent. You know I am hopeless when you send me to any of the shops… Both for you and myself. I could have sent you flannels, darling.”

“You’re right, of course. I forgive you, darling. You’re just a brown dirt cowboy, no sense of style. You shouldn’t be expected to be able to shop for Captain Fantastic on any day, nevermind when he’s miles away and can’t tell you what to pick out.”

Bernie laughed as he kissed the top of Elton’s head. “Thank you for your forgiveness, Reg. It means ever so much…” Elton giggled. “So how are you really, Reg?”

Elton shrugged. “I’m getting by. It’s hard to believe that I get to leave here next week without signing myself out. It seems like I’ve been here for years, even though I know it’s only been about two months. I am pretty damn proud of myself for seeing it through. I’m bloody terrified of going back to the ‘real world’, though. I haven’t touched a piano since I’ve been here, and not so sure if I ever want to again.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid, Bernie. What if I’m not as good? Without the drink and drugs?”

It was Bernie’s turn to scoff. “You are Elton Hercules John, as you like to remind me, my love. You are brilliant at everything you do. You are an inspiration to me, love, and many other people near and far. I know it’s hard sometimes, bearing the full weight of our success on your shoulders. If it becomes too much, my love, you can step back. You don’t need to get back on the road or in the studio, no matter what the wanker says. We have plenty of money as it is, and I have other business opportunities I can explore as well. Our solicitor has been looking over all the documents you signed and when we return he will have news for us. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to, or just cannot do. Keep that in mind for me, alright?”

Elton nodded, wiping his tears with his sleeves. “I still can’t believe he found me,” he whispered. He took a deep breath, not wanting to give into the tears. “I still can’t believe my mum told him where to find me, and that he even got in so quickly! Two weeks, Bernie. Two weeks is all it took. I hadn’t told anyone here about him before he showed up. I hadn’t told anyone what he had done to me. They really thought it was just a simple business meeting, and just let him waltz right in…”

Bernie tightened his hold on him. “He showed up at my house too looking for you. Just after Maxine showed up trying to get back together.” Elton gaped. “I know, I know... it was the day from hell, love. I had just told Maxine that you were my boyfriend, I would never want a relationship with her, and when I went to lock up after her, Reid was on the bloody steps…”

“That must have been so hard, Bernie!”

“It was… I… Well, I spent three months constantly drunk. That’s why when you called and you thought I sounded odd, it’s because I was drunk. Ray stayed by and kept me alive, though. He’s stayed by and kept me alive all year, really. I see why you never actually thanked me for helping when I did, by the way. It was more irritating than anything at the time…” They shared a quiet chuckle. Bernie dug out his coin. “But I am thankful now. Without him I wouldn’t be able to take you home next week. I started going to AA three times a week near our house and therapy too. See my red chip? I’m bloody proud. I’m doing a lot better.”

“I’m glad. I wish I was there for you like you have been for me. I really am the self-indulgent prick John al…”

“Hey,” Bernie said, gently taking Elton’s chin in his hand. “Look at me, my love.” He waited until Elton’s watery eyes finally met his. “Stop that now, Reg. You are nothing of the sort. You are one of the most caring and forgiving men I know.” He gently wiped Elton’s tears from his eyes. “Who else would take their mother, who has caused you nothing but suffering since you were a babe, out of an abusive home and buy her a mansion when you realized she was hurting?” 

Elton shrugged, a bit uncomfortably. “I really did it for my Nan, Bernie. Not for her. And she will be kicked out as soon as I get out of here mind...”

Bernie smiled. “Okay, well, how about this? Who else would see a young boy on the tele one day while in the hospital himself, still suffering the aftereffects of a heart attack, and feel the need to help? The young boy was suffering from one of the world’s most dastardly and untreatable diseases. He and his family were rejected from society for nothing that was his fault, and you reached out because they needed someone, right? But you didn’t just stop at a concert. You decided to not only reach out to him and his family and invite them to see you play, but you also put a down-payment on a house to ensure they were taken care of? You wanted them to have a little fun so you take them to disneyland? You decided you didn’t want the loan repaid, and instead put the repayment into a college fund for the sister so that that it was at least one thing they needn’t fret about? Is that the work of a ‘self-indulgent prick’?” 

“But…”

Bernie shook his head, his fingers still caressing Elton’s face. “It was just amazing, Reg. Your selflessness knows no bounds, no matter what you may have been led to believe.” Bernie kissed his forehead. “I know he is also a part of why you sought help for your addiction, Reggie. While I was in rehab myself, I saw he had passed away, and I saw that you had not only gone to be with his family for his passing, but you also sang at his funeral. It was that knowledge that helped me begin to forgive you for leaving me so suddenly. You are a good man, my love, under all the addictions, and I can’t wait until you see it for yourself.”

Elton did not respond. He knew if he tried he would just become a sobbing mess and would ruin the precious few moments he had left with Bernie. He would wait until he returned to his room and his stupid notebook before he would think more of his dear little friend. Elton curled impossibly closer into Bernie’s side, and Bernie just continued to hold him, pressing kisses on the top of his head, forehead, cheeks, until their time together came to a close. Because sometimes just a simple touch is deeper than any conversation between both lovers and friends.


	5. Chapter 5

Ray watched Bernie pace the length of the hotel room for what seemed like the billionth time, muttering to himself the whole time. His mate threw his hands in the air, put them behind his back, left them at his sides, ran them through his hair, though never changed his path and hit his foot on Ray’s bed with each pass. 

It was getting bloody irritating.

He himself was the picture of calm. He lay upon ‘his’ bed, his hands folded behind his head, his ankles crossed, watching his mate become more frazzled with each step he took. He sighed, lifting himself to sit cross legged on the bed. “Bernie, you have got to calm down a little. You’re driving me spare, mate, with all this pacing and knocking around.”

Bernie collapsed on the other bed with a groan. He grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his chest. “Ray!,” he whined. “I’m going to fuck this up. I just know I’m going to fuck this up. He is released tomorrow. He’s done so well for himself here, and I’m going to bring him home, and say or do the wrong thing once again and all his progress will be for none, I swear it…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve done all the stupid breathing exercises. I’ve tried to think of something else. You saw I even called my damn counselor because I can’t remember the last time I was this close to a bloody panic attack, Ray!”

“This close? Try bloody having one,” Ray muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bernie pretended he didn’t hear Ray. “I’ve failed him so many times, and I’m just going to fail him again. Why he still wants to be around me astounds me…”

Ray waited a few moments, basking in the silence, before speaking again. “Are you quite finished now, mate?” Bernie nodded once. “Brilliant. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? First, you are not going to fuck this up. You have spoken at length with him about what he wants upon his release by phone and letter. We have set up the spare bedroom for him, just like he wanted. You and I have moved all his belongings that he wanted from his own house and what was left at yours into that room. We bought a new flipping bed for the spare room that is just like the one he had. We ensured there was no alcohol or pills that were not essential laying about before we boarded. You have an appointment with your solicitor with Elton to ensure Reid gets what he deserves. We even made a bloody meal menu, Bernie, and stocked the icebox and freezer. Everything is taken care of. Everything will be fine.”

“You’re right, o’course. I just…”

“You’re fretting over him like you always do. It’s okay to worry. It’s not okay to drown in the worry, mate. Isn’t that what the doctor said?” 

Bernie nodded again. “Sorry, Ray.”

“You’re alright,” Ray said, reaching into the drawer in his bedside table. “But it is almost midnight and I’m bloody knackered. I’m giving you one of your sleeping pills so we can both take a kip, alright? And no, it’s not a question, you will take one because you haven’t slept all week and that’s not helping your anxiety. You’ll see it will all be fine, mate. I promise you.”

“I’m not a bloody child, Ray,” Bernie grumbled as he pulled himself out of his bed to get the pill anyway.

“I know you hate that I have your pills, Bernie, and I don’t blame you one bit. But you also know your psych doctor said you were better off letting me handle the sleeping pills until you were in a better mental state. You’re only 36 days clean, mate,” Ray reminded him. “Remember I’m not doing this because I think you are a child and unable to care for yourself. I’m doing this because I fucking adore you and don’t want you to kill yourself because it became too much for you... Just like you did with Elton, mate.”

“I know,” Bernie whispered, crawling under the duvet. “I hate being so weak. I hate that you have to help me with so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you this year, Ray. I just… I just wish I was stronger, Ray.”

“You will be. You will be stronger. You both will be, in time,” Ray said, closing his eyes. _ Because if you aren’t, and you both fall apart, that’s me over _, Ray thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of dialogue, but a very important chapter. Trigger warnings for descriptions of rape.

_ Dear notebook _ , Elton wrote, _ I’ve been ‘home’ now for a week. My room is exactly as I pictured it to be: an ode to Bernie’s lack of design sense. I mean really, who else would think tartan is a good design for a curtains or even bed linen? Ray took me shopping and I redecorated my safe space to my satisfaction. _

_ It has been an awkward transition. I can go to sleep when I decide and sleep for as long as I want to. I can either take my meds, or not, and not get a lecture from an old swot. I can eat until I decide it is enough, and not what is deemed acceptable by the damn nutritionist. Bernie and Ray do make a habit of having smaller meals more often for my benefit. As thankful as I am they are trying to help me, it gets irksome... But I haven’t thrown up any meals, so that’s good, I suppose. I can venture out of my room whenever I please, and be greeted with a friendly smile each time. Bernie even took me to dinner and the cinema last night! We saw the new Exorcist. _

_ There are times in which sequels need to be axed before production… _

_ It was… nice, I guess. It was like a date. We both looked nice, we shared an expensive dinner (with soft drinks. It was very odd. I almost ordered a vodka and tonic before I remembered I don’t drink anymore...), we sat close at the theatre, but we didn’t touch. We didn’t hold hands. We didn’t even brush shoulders while walking down the street like we would have before. _

_ I don’t know why, and it’s been driving me spare. I don’t know if he’s still self-conscious, or if he knows what happened. I never spoke of it with him. I barely spoke with my therapist about it. John came by here, though, and he’s been known to say stupid shit when he gets angry. _

_ He must know and is disgusted. That’s okay. I’m disgusted too. _

Elton threw his biro on the desk. He was so _ tired _ of emotions. He glared at his notebook. He didn’t know why he even continued to write since he left the facility. It just caused him exasperation. He picked up his can of coke, feeling a longing so strong for spot of rum to make it less sweet, and took a long gulp. He threw the can at the wall when it was finally empty.

It wasn’t quite as satisfying as the sound of breaking glass, but it would do, he supposed.

He got to his feet, and collapsed onto his bed. He knew Bernie would be knocking soon to call him for dinner, but he wasn’t hungry, for any food or company either.

**************

“I told you I was going to fuck this up, Ray. He hasn’t come out of his room all day other than the loo. He hasn’t eaten anything since last night. He won’t even unlock door!,” Bernie exclaimed, pacing his sitting room and pulling at his hair. “I thought he had a good time. We laughed over dinner and the fact we almost forgot we didn’t drink anymore, and we laughed through the entire stupid flick, and then we laughed even harder on the walk home. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to kiss him. But he kept stepping away when I came close… I don’t even know if it as on purpose either. Then he locks himself in his room last night before we can even talk about it and won’t even say anything when I knock on his door!”

Ray watched Bernie pace, growing more frantic with each pass. He prided himself in being able to calm even the most frenzied person. He had to be to have worked with Dick James for as long as he had. He usually was able to soothe Bernie before it had gone as far as it had, but it was the lack of communication between Bernie and Elton that was the issue here, and until that was fixed there was nothing Ray could do to help.

And he was angry. Very, very angry.

“Will you bloody sit down, mate? I already have a headache and this is not helping…” 

Bernie sat in his armchair with a groan. He scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to calm himself. “We don’t even have any pain pills here, mate. I’m sorry.”

“I’m alright,” Ray said, waving away his concern. “Tell me, did you ever tell Elton that Reid came here?” Bernie nodded. “Did you ever tell Elton that Reid told you about that absurd ‘punishment?” Bernie shook his head. “I’m going to tell you something I have never told anyone before, and I’d appreciate it if it stayed between us, Bernie.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know if you know but I was an unpaid intern before I started working for Liberty Records. My whole teen years, really. I was so excited when I was hired for my first ever paying job after those years as a ‘piece of furniture’, you know? Finally going to be able live the fucking dream and all… I went to a club with some of my mates. I had set my drink down for just a mom’ to hug my mate goodbye as it was late, but that was all it took for two women to roofie me and bring me to their hotel.” Ray cleared his throat. “Most is a blur, o’course. That’s the beauty of rohypnol. I don’t remember getting to the hotel, or much of what happened, or even much of the conversation that apparently happened before during and after, but I remember all fucking the sensations, Bernie. I remember their hands, their lips, their tongues, and how they took turns on my knob until I came over and over. I was treated like a fucking rentboy, Bernie, because I was ‘cute’. I was ‘cute’.” Ray cleared his throat again, allowing the tears to finally fall. “That was the reason they chose me. I was fucking ‘cute.’ The lads congratulated me when they saw me next, o’course, like I chose to shag them. They saw me leave with 2 'hot' chicks, I must of had the time of my fucking life, right? Like I had a fucking choice in the matter. It was the 60’s. Men don’t get raped, ever, remember?”

“Shit, mate,” Bernie breathed, tears falling unchecked from his eyes.

“That’s why I have never been in a long term relationship. That’s why I don’t do much physical affection other than a shoulder squeeze or the very occasional hug. It still affects me even now, _ now _, 23 fucking years later. I can’t even imagine how Elton feels. He not only knew the bastard who drugged him, he fucking loves the bastard who drugged him. I had two women on me. If I know Reid, it was many more than just two ‘friends’ who worked on Elton that night. I told you to be fucking patient with him, didn’t I?” 

Bernie flinched.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Ray said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I know you didn’t mean to do anything that would hurt him at all. I know you wanted to take him out on a nice date and show him how much you love him. I know you wanted it to be like before. And I am just so bloody thankful you don’t understand what it’s like to be hurt like he has been. I remember taking so many showers when I got back to my parents’ flat. I remember feeling dirty for months after, no matter how many times I bathed. If he knows John was here, and he assumes you know what happened, there is a good chance that he doesn’t think he’s worthy of you anymore. That he is just too ‘unclean’.”

“I do...”


	7. Chapter 7

Bernie and Ray looked towards the doorway in surprise. They had been so distracted in Ray’s confession they never heard even heard Elton leave his bedroom. 

Elton stood awkwardly in the middle of the doorframe, his shaky hands clutching his silk dressing gown closed, tears falling unchecked from his eyes. “So-sorry, I was just,” he pointed into the kitchen, “getting some water and was going to actually take my meds for once this week and I heard… I heard…” He cleared his throat. “Enough.” He sniffled. “I shouldn’t have listened, Ray, and I’m sorry, it wasn’t for my ears, but I… I’ve been so lost, so confused and I couldn’t make sense of my thoughts all these months, but you… You explained them perfectly.”

“It’s alright, Elton, mate,” Ray said, patting the couch cushion beside him. “Come and sit for a bit? I’m glad to see you. I’ll go get us some tea and we can chat it up, yeah?”

“No, let me,” Bernie said, jumping to his feet. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “I… Yeah… Chamomile. Need a-a touch of calm, lads, don’t we?” he managed to stutter, squeezing passed Elton who still stood still in the middle of the doorway, just barely not touching him.

“If you’re sure,” Elton said slowly, stepping into the room proper. He sat on the edge of the sofa, resting his arm on the side, his usual ‘flight’ instinct taking over without him realizing. He kept his eyes on the door, his lips quirked in a simile to a smile, rather amused at how quick Bernie stepped out. “That was one of the first things Bernie said to me, you know? I showed up at his house one night, looking a fright, drunk off my arse, and he made me a cup of chamomile tea. He said I looked like a needed ‘a touch of calm’. I started to fall for him that night, even if I didn’t really know it.” 

Elton shook his head after a moment, before the memories overtook him again. Before he became the scared little boy who only wanted his parents’ affection. Before he became the scared young man who only wanted his parents’ approval. Before he became the confused twenty-something who had caged his very being just so he could be what society deemed normal.

Well… Just before Bernie, he supposed.

“I told John when I kicked him out I would not only survive the breakup, but I would thrive without him. Look at me now? Afraid of my own damn shadow. Afraid to be alone, yet terrified of being around people. Trapped in memories, real or not real, and simple what could have beens. Barely fucking surviving. He’s winning, even now, and I’m just a captive in his game still…,” Elton said. 

He rubbed his forehead, feeling the start of a headache forming. “Was it really 20 years ago?,” Elton muttered, falling back on the sofa. “Was it really 20 years ago I sat in your office and begged for a fucking chance? And ended up at the troubadour and met the fucking devil incarnate himself? It seems like yesterday, mate.”

Ray chuckled. “Yes. Hard to believe, innit? You were such a numpty, sitting there in your ‘stylish’ plaid suit and green scarf, trying so hard to answer my questions without stuttering. I had already written you off until you got in front of the piano, mate.” They shared a laugh. His awkwardness had luckily faded some over the years. “Your nervousness just kind ebbed off with each stroke of the keys. I knew you would be successful, Elton. You were so talented, even then, only knowing you knew how to play the piano.”

“That was when I composed what would be ‘candle in the wind’, isn’t it?”

Ray nodded. “What I never expected, though, was that out of that whole stack of hopefuls I had in my briefcase I would pull out the other half of your soul. Because no matter how much you both dance around it, no matter how much you run from each other when it gets too real for you to handle, it’s the truth. Kismet.”

“He deserves better than me. He always has,” Elton whispered, covering his face with his hands. He took in a shuddering breath. “Someone whole. Someone kind. Someone worthy… Someone who knows who and what he is... Someone he doesn’t have to wait for.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Elton,” Ray said, watching Bernie return with a full tea tray in his hands and squeezing Elton’s shoulder. “Perhaps you are right in all those things. Who really knows? But he wants you, mate. He’s always wanted you. That has to mean something, right?”

“It means he’s going to end up disappointed, I suppose. That’s all I am to everyone. A fucking disappointment. I deserve what I had with John...”

Bernie poured the tea into cups, trying to keep a semblance of control over his own emotions. Reg didn’t know he had returned. He couldn’t have known he had returned. He wouldn’t have said that if he had. Keeping control was getting more difficult by the minute while he tried to convince himself that Elton was not going to run back to Reid at any moment.

_ Don’t run. Talk this through _ , Bernie coached himself as he sat back down, his tea held in trembling hands. _ Don’t let him leave, Bernie Taupin... _

“I’d wait forever if it meant I could have you, Reggie,” he said gently, albeit unsteadily. “I love you. I always have, and always will. Nothing you tell me will change that. Nothing that was _done_ _to you_ will change that. ‘When stars collide like you and I no shadows block the sun.’"

“I saw that in the stack you left on the desk. It’s beautiful work, Bernie,” he said, clutching his teacup Ray handed him close to his chest. The warmth of the cup was good on his fingers. The smell of the chamomile he inhaled was good. Bernie’s small smile, just for him, was good. 

Even if everything else was shit, and nothing made sense in his head, this little slice of home was good.

“It’s the truth, Reggie,” Bernie shrugged, keeping his eyes firmly on the coffee table. It was easier to speak his feelings when not facing Elton's tears. “You are my ‘one’. And I will wait patiently by your side until you are able to see that you do deserve me. Until you see you deserve the bloody world, and allow me to help give it to you. That nothing Reid did to you was what you deserved, and that no matter what was done to you, it doesn’t change my opinion of you. You're fucking brilliant, love. Until you are able to trust fully again, I'm here waiting. And until then, and long after, I’ll still be here because I love you.”

Elton felt his cheeks flush. He sipped at his tea, so many thoughts swirling in his head. “I do trust you, but I don’t fully believe you, not yet, if that even makes sense...,” he finally whispered. “I… I am going to bed. This has been… well, just too much for me. I’m so...”

“We understand,” Ray interrupted before Bernie could speak again. “Get some rest, Elton. And please do take your medications. It’s not good you haven’t taken them this week. They really will help even just a little, I promise you.”

Elton only nodded before rushing from the room.

Bernie left to his soon after.

Ray sat in the sitting room long after they both retired, sipping his rapidly cooling tea and staring at the calming pattern within the electric fireplace. Hearing the sounds of Elton’s old keyboard filling the house brought Ray some much needed peace as he wrestled with his own demons. Speaking of his own trauma for the first time was much more difficult than he let on, but if by doing so it brought them each to an understanding, it was worth it, he supposed. He listened to Elton’s scales as they turned to chords, and his voice singing a melody of such hope and such sorrow, finding himself scratching at his arms in tune with the music.

And if he scrubbed himself a bit more than normal, and cried just a bit more than normal in the shower that night, and took two of his own sleeping pills instead of one, well, that was a secret he would keep to himself. 

Healing will happen for all three, in their own time.


	8. Chapter 8

Bernie knew when he retired for the evening sleep would not be possible. The mania he did his best to hide from everyone but his doctor had begun early that morning, and he was desperate for relief before he spiraled. He lay sprawled on his back upon his bed staring at the ceiling, doing his best to keep a clear mind. After the heart-wrenching testimony from both his housemates he felt absurd reminding Ray to give him his medication. 

He cursed himself for the hundredth time for allowing Ray to keep hold of all his medications. He really needed a sleeping pill or ten right now...

He turned over on his side and stared blankly at the wall. He felt as though he should feel something, anything… Anything other than the ridiculous remorse for his perceived selfishness in regards to his friendships. Hearing Ray’s story, and already knowing a good portion of Elton’s through the years, made everything Bernie had gone through seem so trivial. Petty. Insignificant.

He felt fucking insignificant.

So what if his doctor diagnosed him with a chemical imbalance in his brain that caused him to feel so wretched almost all the time? So what if some days he felt great and ready to take on the world, and other days he shut himself in his room and did nothing at all? So what if he had a difficult time keeping up with relationships because his emotions were so intense and changed so frequently it made his own head spin? 

There was no rhyme or reason to his distress, so it did not matter. It shouldn’t matter to anyone, least of all to Ray or Elton. They had real issues to contend with, and Bernie was the inconsiderate jerk that continued to worry them because he was medically mentally broken.

Even Elton’s beautiful music that filled the house could not lift Bernie’s funk.

_ I need to take a walk or something before I do something stupid, _ he thought, pulling himself out of bed. _ This line of thinking will only cause more drama tonight and that is the last thing they need. _

_ I’m the last thing they need, really. What good am I?, _ Bernie thought, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. _ I have known Ray for 20 years, and this is the first time he entrusted me with anything. And why? Because I cocked it up once again with Reggie. I seem to always just fuck everything up when it comes to Reggie. _

He shut his door quietly, not wanting to ruin Elton’s concentration while he created his masterpieces. He stopped at Elton’s bedroom door, placing his hand on the wall. He could hear the emotion in Elton’s voice as he sang the lyrics Bernie had left for him. Bernie sincerely hoped he was alright, after everything, without Bernie by his side.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and walked out the front door. He had no destination in mind when he hopped into his truck, but he knew he couldn’t stay home. Not tonight. 

Nothing good would come of the chaos inside his head if he did. For any of them.

*************************

_ Dear Notebook, _

_ It seems Bernie left sometime last night. Ray woke in the early morning hours and realized Bernie never received his medications. When he went to Bernie’s room to wake him and have him take them, he found the room empty and the bed still neatly made. He searched the house and found Bernie’s truck was gone as well and a simple note that said ‘Don’t look for me.’  _

_ He could be anywhere. _

_ I am rather cross Ray didn’t think to wake me. Here I was sleeping and my Bernie was hurting… He was hurting so much he left his own house in the middle of the night for only God knows where. It’s midday now, Ray is making calls, and I’m terrified Bernie is hurt somewhere. _

Elton banged his head on his desk with a groan. He really thought that writing might help him a little, as Ray was caught up in trying to locate Bernie, but instead it really made it worse. He wondered why he bothered with the stupid notebook now that he wasn’t forced to write in it. He didn’t need to keep track of his thoughts or feelings anymore. 

He missed being numb.

He tore the pages out, piece by piece, and shredded each page he had written on into smaller and smaller pieces, then threw the pieces like the confetti he turned them into. It was cathartic in its own way. He slammed his feet on his desk and chewed the end of his pencil for something to do.

The nervous energy was driving him spare.

He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket.  _ Don’t look for me, my arse _ , he thought.  _ I don’t have to look. I fucking know. I was just too worried to think properly.  _

He ran out the door, ignoring Ray’s call of surprise. He jumped in his car and sped away.  _ I’m coming, my love. Don’t have done anything stupid, please... I can't do this without you... _


	9. Chapter 9

Bernie knew the moment he left the house he had made a mistake. Within the walls of his home he was safe. Ray had spent many an hour combing every room of his ranch to ensure there was nothing that could cause him serious harm when he felt his world was ending after opening up about illness. He meant well, of course, and only smirked when Bernie complained about having to rip his waffles apart the next morning as all the knives seemed to have disappeared. 

Ray had instituted an open door policy thereafter, and had made him promise to come to him when his moods swung as low as they had. Bernie had rolled his eyes, but promised halfheartedly just to appease the man who was trying so hard to keep him alive. 

Bernie was very good at forgetting his bloody promises. He had been all his life. 

He knew he should have knocked on Ray’s door and gotten his bloody pills instead of leaving. He had even promised himself earlier in the night that he wouldn’t run away again, he would stay and make things right with Elton… He would stay and make things right with Ray. Just another empty promise he couldn’t seem to keep. 

Ray would be a mess when he realized his mistake, and even more so when he saw Bernie was gone. He hoped they could comfort each other.

He was a good friend, Ray. More than he deserved, really. He felt a little bad for not explaining and leaving behind the four word note, but really, what more was there to say?

After an hour of driving, Bernie had swung into a package store when he saw it was still open. He pulled in more out of surprise than the intent to buy, he had told himself as he stepped out of his truck. Leaving with a handle of gin, a handle of whisky, a cheap switchblade, and a few packs of marlboros, his pity party could begin proper now. 

_ Who needs moderation when you are ready for it all to be over… Sorry not sorry… _ , he thought as he shifted his truck in reverse and speeding away.

He couldn’t have known when he left the ranch he would end up at the pier. He usually ended up at the pier when he was having a rough go to watch ‘normal’ people interact, but he did not expect to end up there after all his jokes of driving into the water when he was in the state he was in. Though, he supposed, it seemed fate like to make an idiot out of him on the best of days, so why wouldn’t it on the worst day he had had in years?

He barely paid attention to his direction on the interstate. He was much more interested in consuming his liquor and chain smoking more than could possibly healthy on the short trip. The consequences that his actions could have born were no matter to him tonight. They might later have later, of course, if he continued on but...

He was just so bloody  _ done _ . He had done his best throughout the course of his life to persevere, to be well, to adapt to society's expectations. He read all the books. He studied ‘normal’ children, then ‘normal’ teenagers and adults as he grew, so he knew the ‘correct’ reactions for all scenarios. He finished school, left his parents behind, and made a name for himself writing things he just couldn’t feel like a normal man. And where did that get him? Worse than he was before. He missed the days of carting dead chickens away in a wheelbarrow instead of sitting behind a desk because at least the busy work kept him from thinking too hard.

His father was right. He should have been drowned at birth because he was bloody insane.  _ An insane queer. The country bumpkin has broken the mold, and boy, were his parents proud... _

Maybe he should just drown himself now… Be done with it all.

He took a long pull from his bottle, looking out at the water contemplatively. Men don’t get raped, Ray had said, but men also don’t have mental illness either. They don’t have depression or suicidal ideation or mood swings or the deep-seated need to take care of another man. That’s for the women, his father has said, not for men ‘like us’. 

He lit another cigarette.

He knew he made quite the picture if anyone was actually around to look. His hair was windswept and fell in his eyes. The fall air was too wonderful on his burning skin to keep the windows up throughout his journey. The bottle he kept bringing to his lips was much too large for easy accessibility, but he did his best. His sweatshirt and denims had taken in quite a bit of his spilled liquor. He felt like a child learning to drink from a glass after graduating from the sippy cup. 

He laughed wildly at the image of himself in his mind’s eye for a moment. The heat from the end of the cigarette in his fingers was the only thing that was keeping him grounded in the moment, and soon that would be finished as well.

His eyes became too heavy to keep open. The sensible part of his brain, deeply hidden as it was, reminded him to roll up the windows and lock the doors before giving into the welcome darkness the liquor had gifted him. He had failed in so many things that night, keeping the sensible part quiet…

_ Maybe this will all make sense when I’m sober... _

  
  


**********************

  
  


Elton realized halfway down Bernie’s driveway that no matter how cross he was with Ray, (because really, the poor man thought he was helping Elton by allowing him to sleep, hoping Bernie would return by the time he woke so he wouldn’t have to worry. Ray was more stressed than Elton was, and he should give him some leeway in the matter he supposed...), leaving him behind was not an option. He groaned as he turned around to speed back to the ranch, hoping Ray did not take forever and a day to get outside. 

He pressed his hand over the horn and the ‘beeped’ one long sound until Ray finally opened the front door.

“Get in the bleeding car before I leave again without you, Ray,” Elton growled impatiently, tapping his steering with his fingers.  _ Gods _ but this nervous energy was going to kill him soon. Elton rolled his eyes when Ray only stared at him. “I reckon I know where he is, and I’m going to him. It’s up to you if you want to come with or keep pacing by yourself hoping for a bloody phone call.”

“Where do you think he is?,” Ray asked, closing the passenger side door.

“The fucking pier.” Ray gasped. “He goes there to people watch when he is feeling depressed. He likes to sit on the benches and watch people interact. Watch them have fun or something when he can’t,” Elton explained, adjusting his ball cap on his head. He pressed his sunglasses back onto his nose with his finger. “And he usually comes back more grounded, but after all the ‘jokes’ he’s made lately I’m uncomfortable not checking on him. I’m afraid he’s finished...” He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with Ray’s gaping at him in surprise. “What, mate?”

Ray shook his head to clear it. “I’ve just… I haven’t seen this side of you in so long, Elton, I forgot you weren’t always the arrogant, condescending wanker I’ve come to associate as you…”

“Well… everyone is capable of redemption at some point,” Elton said practically. “And yes, I am still the arrogant, condescending wanker you love, Ray… This is my Bernie though. I’m always different with my Bernie… He needs us.”

“You don’t need to hide behind a mask with me either, Elton, you know?,” Ray said quietly, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “Bernie’s my best mate, and you are  _ so _ important to him, therefore you are important to me, too. I’m pretty certain nothing can surprise me anymore, either...”

“I… I’ll think on it, Ray,” he said, just as quietly, after a beat of silence. He banged his head with his fist. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I...”

Ray nodded once when Elton stopped speaking, moving his gaze to the window as Elton fiddled with the radio. Ray knew when he turned the music as loud as it would go, their conversation was over. 

The sounds of the frilly pop music playing from the speakers was like a knife to Ray’s soul.


	10. Chapter 10

Elton pulled into the parking lot with a sigh. He had not driven himself anywhere in so long, nevermind on the fucking interstate, he was quite chuffed to have made it with no issues. He set the gear in park and beamed at Ray who sat stiff in the passenger seat. “What?,” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Did you forget what speed limit signs, stop signs, or even bloody traffic lights actually meant, mate, or were just in so fucking of a hurry it didn’t matter?,” Ray asked, running his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath. “You aren’t allowed to drive any longer, Elton, mate. Not until you go back to driving school or something. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Elton watched Ray jump out of the car with a frown. “Stop being absurd, Ray. I followed all the signs!,” Elton said, the annoyance obvious now in his voice, as he stepped out himself. Ray snorted as he lit a cigarette. “What? I got us here, didn’t I?”

“You gonna stomp your feet like a tot now too, Elton, or can we just bloody find Bernie, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright, but this conversation isn’t over, Raymond!,” Elton said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was still bloody irritated, but they had bigger issues at the moment. “I reckon we look for his truck? I don’t see any crowds formed like someone’s ‘bout to jump off something so I guess we’re good on that front.”

Ray stopped short, shuddering. He gazed wildly at all the billboards and scaffolds in his sight just in case there actually  _ was _ a figure standing up above their heads ready to end it all. “Do you think he isn’t actually taking the pills, mate? I mean, it already feels ridiculous handing him his pills, never mind asking to see under his tongue or some rubbish. This just… It all seems so fucking sudden, this. One night of missed pills wouldn’t do this, would it? No matter how emotionally exhausting a night can be?”

Elton shrugged, looking into the windows of every truck he passed. “We won’t know until we find him, Ray. I don’t know much about his illness, really. I only know that you have his medications because you told me. He hides a lot from me, just as I hide a lot from him. We are a wretched pair.”

“His truck’s blue, mate. Why you leering into a red one?,” Ray asked, beginning to look himself.

“It is, innit?,” Elton asked, tilting his head to the side while he stared into the windows. He pointed at the window. “Sorry… They’re having a good petting session in the backseat over here. Got a little distracted.”

Ray shook his head with a chuckle. “Duffer…”

They continued to walk up and down the lanes for a bit, catching some people by surprise when they peered into their windows, but Elton finally found it.

Elton opened the door triumphantly, calling for Ray. His smile faded as quickly as it came. He reached in the truck, pressing two fingers to Bernie’s neck. He exhaled deeply, gladdened to feel the slight pulse beneath his fingers. “Ray, head to a phone and ring emergency will you?,” he said as calmly as he could, taking the switchblade from Bernie’s hand gently. He closed it swiftly and put it in his pocket. He took off his jacket and then his t-shirt and pressed both to Bernie’s wrists firmly. “Don’t ask me questions right now, Ray,” he interrupted, knowing Ray was about to waste time with inane questions. “We don’t have time… Just do as I ask, please. NOW!”

When he heard Ray’s boots race on the pavement, he allowed tears to fall. “Oh, my love,” he said, pushing Bernie’s hair from his eyes with his free hand. “Don’t leave me now. Not like this. I can’t do this without you.”

*****************

Bernie slowly opened his eyes. He felt like he had been run over by a train. He groaned shutting his eyes quickly when he was blinded by the bright light in the room. He felt a sweaty hand grip his own, a cool cloth dabbing at his forehead, and sighed. He turned his head and opened his eyes. “Reggie?,” he croaked. “That you?”

“Cheers, Bernie,” Elton murmured, a shaky smile on his face as though trying his best to counteract the tears that continued to fall from his eyes. “I’m so glad to see your eyes again.”

“Hurts…”

“I’m certain it does, love. Let me call the nurse for you, alright? We were only allowed to stay because I promised to ring her the moment you woke. Ray is on your other side for now though, love.”

Elton rushed out the door and leaned against the wall. He let out a loud sob of relief, sliding down the wall slowly. He didn’t realize how worried he was he would never awake until he saw his beautiful eyes open. He pulled at his hair, the pain calming his speeding heart.

He looked up when he saw the nurse’s white clogs stop in front of him. “He’s ‘wake, darling,” he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “I was coming to tell you. I got… little overwhelmed.”

The nurse smiled at him gently. “Yes, I see that, dear. I’ll be sending your other friend out. Go down to the lounge for a cuppa and I’ll let you know when you can see him again, okay?” She held out a hand to him to help him to his feet.

Elton nodded, grateful for her help. “My knees aren’t what they used to be, so I thank you. I know I’ve already asked but… What’s going to happen with him, luv?”

“Right now I am going in to speak to him and check his vitals. The emergency room doctor will then come in and check his physical health and awareness. After that there will be a visit with the hospital’s social worker. From there, I don’t know, but you will the moment I do, okay?”

Elton nodded as he cleared his throat. He opened the door to Bernie’s room. “On you go, darling. Come Ray. It’s fucking tea time I suppose.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Thanks for all who went on this journey with me, and I hope you enjoyed!

Elton leaned against his car, his arms folded across his chest. He dressed as low key as he could, knowing attention would be the last thing Bernie would want when he was released after his 3 week stay. Ray had even nodded in appreciation at his boring grey and black suit and bowler cap set upon his head. He even wore plain dark sunglasses to hide his face.

Ray had stayed behind at the ranch, trusting Elton _ just _ enough to their mate home safely. Elton would never intentionally put Bernie in harm’s way, and Ray knew they needed to talk about what happened without him being in the backseat. It was time.

Elton smiled and stood up straight the moment he saw Bernie exit the facility. Bernie walked with his shoulders back, his button down shirt neatly tucked into his denims, which in turn were tucked into his leather cowboy boots, and his hair was tied back in a simple tie. He looked like the Bernie of old. His brown dirt cowboy. He looked so much better than he had in years and Elton was just so pleased for him.

Elton took Bernie’s small bag from him to put in the boot, and opened the passenger side door. “It’s great to see you, Bernie. You look well.”

Bernie hugged Elton to him, taking him by surprise. “I’m so sorry, Reggie,” he whispered, his voice breaking with suppressed emotion. "So, so sorry."

"I know. You've only said a million times, Bern, and I have already said I've forgotten what you are even apologizing for, so that's that, alright, love?," Elton said, holding him close. He gently pressed his lips to Bernie's. A gentle, tentative kiss, unlike one they have shared in years. "I'm still here. I'm not leaving you. I'm not the others. Certainly you realize that by now, love?"

Bernie snorted. "You are one of a kind, I suppose," Bernie replied, allowing Elton to help him into the car. "When did you buy this ridiculous car?"

"It's not ridiculous. I bought it a few months ago. It's all about the rock and roll, love," Elton said indignantly. "Do put your seatbelt on, if you will. I'm only still re-learning how to drive. I guess I fired Dennis at some point this year and have to drive myself around. Absurd, I know. The Elton John forced to drive himself around like an ordinary person..."

"Should uhh… should I drive home then, Reg?," Bernie asked, fastening his seatbelt.

"Nah, mate, it’s going to be great! Just… Well... hold on tight."

  
  


********

“I need to talk to you about something Bernie,” Elton said, setting his fork down upon his still full dinner plate. Food was still something he was working on his relationship with, in the wake of cutting out all the other addictions. It was so easy to fall back into his routine with his food intake and did so often if he wasn’t careful. “Sorry, Ray, it’s wonderful as always, but I just… Can’t stomach food at the moment.”

“It’s alright, Elton. I understand. Should I go?,” Ray asked, getting to his feet.

“No, I think you need to hear this too, Ray. You have done so much for both of us that it would be silly for you not to be apart of the conversation,” Elton said, nodding at him to sit back down. He looked up from his plate, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Bernie, I love you. I have loved you since that night I left my parents’ house and you let me into yours without a second thought.” Elton cleared his throat. “I also know I am absurdly selfish. I know I can act like a child more often than an adult, especially if things don’t go my way. I know when I get into a dark place, it is really hard to bring me out of it. Why didn’t you ever tell me about your dark place, Bernie?”

“Everyone I’ve ever told either doesn’t understand or thinks less of me. There is such a stigma that surrounds mental health that it is bloody tiring to explain,” Bernie said. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. “I only told Ray because he lived here and had to bring me to therapy. The last person I ever told was Maxine two weeks into our marriage when I had an episode. She started cheating on me with ‘real men’ thereafter. You were so caught up with Reid in the beginning, Reg, I could not take that happiness from you. Then we just eventually stopped talking. It seemed silly to bring it up years after our friendship started, nevermind when we had barely spoken in years as well.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I do regret it...”

Elton nodded. “I need you to promise me something, Bernie. The same thing you had me promise you at the hospital. Please, don’t ever let it get as bad as taking your life being the only viable option. Please, talk to me, or Ray, Bernie. I can’t live without you. I won’t live without you. Promise me, please…”

Bernie only nodded, but it was better than denying it outright, Elton reasoned with himself. He wiped the tears from his eyes with his napkin as he stood. He nodded at Ray, pleading with his eyes to talk to Bernie. Ray nodded back at him in understanding. _ We will get through to him, _ Ray’s eyes had promised. _ We will help him. Nothing else matters at the moment..._


End file.
